So, That Got Weird

by Amelia Kingston

  “Why wouldn’t I be wearing pants?”

  Apparently I’m hilarious, because he laughs harder.

  “Because we’re going for sexy here.”

  “I’m not taking my pants off.”

  He crosses the room to me until his chest is inches from mine. My entire body tenses at his proximity, and I freeze in place. He tucks one finger into the waist of my pants and pulls my hips forward, colliding with his. Our bodies connecting and the fire in his eyes cause me to gasp. He leans down, and his lips brush against my ear.

  “Either you take your pants off, or I will.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath to prevent the ensuing panic attack. I bring my hands up against his chest and try to push him away. He doesn’t budge, so I take a step back instead, completely overwhelmed.

  “We need to slow down. I’m not ready for this.” I keep my eyes closed and continue to focus on my breathing. He covers my hands with his, pressing them lightly into his hard chest.

  “Elizabeth, look at me.”

  I don’t open my eyes. He lifts my chin with a finger.

  “Elizabeth.” The pleading in his voice breaks my will and I peer into his deep blue eyes.

  “I know you’re nervous, but this is about trying new things, right? That means you’re going to be uncomfortable. I’m going to push your boundaries.”

  I nod, not saying anything.

  “I need you to be brave. And I need you to trust me.”

  I don’t answer. I stare up at him for a moment, taking in his words.

  He’s right.

  And I hate him for it.

  “Fine.” I shove him, turn around and storm back to my room.

  “And lose that bra too!” he hollers after me. I respond by slamming my bedroom door.

  So mature.

  Back in the safety of my room, I stand in front of my mirror again, examining myself. The shirt is way too big on me. I roll the sleeves up to the middle of my forearms. That’s better. It’s kind of a baggy shirt dress now. Or, it would be if I took my pants off. With a defeated sigh, I unbutton my jeans and let them fall down my hips before kicking them off entirely.

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The bottom hem reaches my mid-thigh. It isn’t as revealing as I thought it would be. My short, stubby legs are actually pretty cute peeking out from the bottom of the shirt. I feel a little naughty, one of those girls who has to steal a guy’s shirt for the morning walk of shame.

  I undo the top few buttons and pull the collar open, exposing the top of my chest. I smile at my reflection. Embracing the adventure, I reach up the back and unhook my bra, pulling it off through the sleeve. The shirt isn’t quite see-through, but without a bra you can see my hard nipples peeking through the fabric.

  I toy with the last few buttons at the bottom, debating unbuttoning them.

  Why not? Just see how it looks?

  I’ve come this far, I might as well go for it. I undo all but the three middle buttons over my chest, exposing my stomach. My skin is pale, but against the white of the shirt it’s almost creamy. I run my hands down over my stomach and up along my neck, taking a moment to marvel at myself. I’m not a kid playing dress-up. I’m not a joke. I’m a woman.

  I feel good. I feel sexy. I feel confident.

  Austin is going to be insufferable.

  My stomach twists as I think about walking out into the living room. It’s one thing to feel sexy in private. It’s something completely different to stand exposed in front of Austin Jacobs. I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is only our second night and I’m going to be strutting around in almost nothing.

  “You coming out or am I going to have to send a search party in after you?” His voice pulls me out of my reverie. I shake my entire body, trying to purge all the nervous energy that’s building up in my limbs. God help me, but I actually repeat ‘loosey-goosey’ to myself a couple of times, quietly enough that I’m sure Austin can’t hear me.

  I crack the door, peeking out into the living room. Austin’s sitting on the couch, his back to me. I slink out of the bedroom and tiptoe toward him. I pause halfway, debating running back to my room and never coming out again.

  Don’t be a chicken.

  I take a deep breath and step into the living room, hoping for the best. As soon as I come into view, Austin snaps his gaze to my bare legs then up my body, devouring me. The caress of his stare is on my thighs, across my stomach and up my chest.

  “Fuck. Me.” The craving in his voice makes my heart race. “You look amazing. I told you you would.” The I-told-you-so almost ruins the moment.

  Almost.

  He stands, stepping right into my personal space again.

  Is he doing that intentionally?

  Does he have any idea what it does to me?

  Of course he does.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Naked,” I reply with an eye-roll. I refuse to admit he’s right.

  “Not yet, you’re not. All in good time, Goose.”

  My breath catches in my throat at his callused hands sliding up the outside of my thighs. He trails under the hem of the shirt until his hands rest on my naked hips. The tickle of his rough fingertips is divine. I put my arms around his neck as he lowers his lips to my exposed collarbone and peppers the soft skin with kisses. The sensation of his wet lips on my body nearly drives me mad.

  He walks us both back toward the couch, pulling off his shirt before he sits down. I take in the glorious majesty that is a shirtless Austin Jacobs. Would it be creepy if I asked to take a picture of him right now?

  Yes, it would. Don’t you dare!

  Right. Guess I’ll just save that mental image instead.

  “Come here,” he implores, putting his hands back on my hips, trying to pull me down on top of him. “I want you to straddle my lap.”

  Oh God.

  Oh God!

  OH GOD!

  I climb onto the couch in what has to be the most uncoordinated and awkward way possible. He’s huge and I’m tiny. I don’t know if I can straddle him. I put one knee up on the couch, pressed against his thigh, but I somehow get caught and twisted in the shirt as I try to bring up my other leg.

  I’m pretty sure I kick him in the shin.

  To his credit, Austin doesn’t cringe at my very cringe-worthy performance. This man has the body of a devil but the patience of a saint. Why isn’t he running for the hills yet?

  Because you’re paying him.

  Thanks for that subtle kick to the ego, brain! Want to remind me of that time I tripped at the opera, fell down the stairs and landed in full view of the orchestra pit with my dress over my head? You know, just to make real sure every ounce of self-confidence I have is utterly dead and buried?

  Eventually, I get both legs on either side of him and stop flailing. Austin keeps his firm grip on me and positions me in his lap. I let out a frustrated sigh. Any confidence I had was sapped by my ridiculous display. I am hopeless.

  “Relax. We’ve got all night.” The words are soothing in my ear. He brushes my hair off my shoulder, wrapping his fingers around the back of my neck.

  “Kiss me,” he entreats. I’m hesitant but eager to meet his lips.

  I lean forward, pressing my chest against his, the thin fabric of my shirt the only thing separating us. My nipples harden with the friction. My lips brush his as I slide my tongue into his mouth and kiss him deeply. His moan is my reward.

  His strong hands pull me down against him as his hips rock up to meet mine. Matching the rhythm he’s setting, I move on my own, grinding against him. The power of him underneath me sends tingles across my body and heat builds between my thighs.

  “That’s perfect. Just like that,” he praises with another moan.

  I love that sound. Emboldened with a surge of confidence, I slip my fingers into his hair, tugging gently as I continue to kiss him. I press my body against his, aching for more contact. He moves a hand up the back of my shirt, spreading goosebumps acr
oss my entire body. He wraps his fingers around my shoulder and pulls me down hard onto his lap.

  I lean back and gasp as I feel his hard length under me.

  “Oh my God, you have an erection,” I blurt out before I can help myself.

  Smooth, real smooth.

  My cheeks burn with embarrassment and I slap my hands over my face. Austin chuckles. I move my fingers enough to get a glimpse of him.

  “That’s usually what happens when a sexy half-naked woman’s grinding in my lap,” he offers with a mischievous grin. My heart swells at the easy compliment.

  “I’ve never—you know—given a guy one before,” I confess.

  What a dork.

  “Silly little Goose,” he quips before dropping his full lips to my collarbone, licking and sucking, driving me crazy. “I guarantee you have. I’m just the first one who didn’t bother hiding it.” He pulls me back into him and kisses me hard, his tongue wet and demanding.

  I sink back down onto him, desire pooling between us. I swivel my hips, luxuriating in the sensation of his thickness against my thigh. I feel so deliciously naughty. Nothing but my panties and his thin gym shorts are separating us, but it’s too much.

  I get lost in him. My whole world consists only of Austin’s lips and hands. We’re locked in each other’s arms, our bodies colliding in a natural rhythm, for what seems like hours. My lips are raw and my legs are exhausted to the point of trembling. I never want to stop. I could live in this moment.

  Our kisses are only interrupted by our heavy breathing and heady moans. Tension builds between us, but not enough for a release. I need more. Every inch of my skin aches for his touch. Austin grants my unspoken wish and glides his hands up the outside of my thigh. He hooks his thumbs into the sides of my panties and pulls them down slightly. He trails kisses as far down my chest as he can reach. I arch my back so he can reach farther.

  “Austin,” I moan shamelessly.

  “Fuck.” Austin lifts me off the couch as if I don’t weigh a thing before flipping us over and crashing back down. The swift movement knocks the breath out of my lungs. He’s hovering over me, his large body poised between my legs. My panties are low on my hips, barely covering me, and my shirt has ridden up to my chest. My heart pounds as he examines my body.

  The hunger in his eyes fills me with terror.

  The gravity of the situation hits me full force, yanking me out of my lust-filled haze. I cross my arms over my chest as the voice in my head screams ‘Not yet. I’m not ready yet!’

  Nothing manages to cross my lips other than a whimper. I don’t need to say a word. When Austin’s eyes meet mine, he pulls away, leaving me emotionally relieved and physically unsatisfied. I ball my hands into fists at my side, digging my nails into my palms to avoid screaming in frustration.

  “I’m running out of self-control here,” he confesses as he stands up. He lays the blanket from the back of the couch across me before he adjusts himself in his shorts. “I need to go home and take the longest cold shower of my life.”

  I can’t help but laugh, the tension easing out of my body. He doesn’t seem as amused.

  He picks his T-shirt up off the floor and puts it back on as he heads toward the door. With the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I follow him. He pauses for a minute as if he’s second-guessing his abrupt departure. Part of me wants to beg him to stay.

  “What do you want for dinner tomorrow?” His voice has an unbelievably sexy rasp to it. My passion-soaked brain is struggling to remember what dinner is.

  Food. He’s asking you about food.

  “P-pa-pizza?” I manage to stutter, more asking for confirmation that it is in fact a food item than it’s acceptable for tomorrow’s dinner.

  “Too easy. Hope you’re always this easy to please,” he teases with a smirk. That smirk should be trademarked, replicated and sold to millions of lonely women around the world. No. On second thought, it’s mine. Just mine, for now at least.

  “Wait, do you want your shirt back?” I open the blanket, showing him the shirt and my body underneath it. He takes me in again and lets out a ragged sigh.

  I know the feeling.

  “No, keep it for next time.”

  I’m relieved he doesn’t want it back. It’s my new favorite outfit.

  “But you should find something for yourself. Something that makes you feel sexy all on your own.”

  “Something black and lacy?” I ask, remembering his earlier comment. He nods but doesn’t answer. I want to think he’s getting worked up picturing it. A girl can dream, right?

  “Good night,” he croaks before heading down the hallway toward the elevator.

  “Good night,” I mutter as I close the door. I know exactly what I’m going to do, and it’s not taking a cold shower.

  Chapter Five

  Austin

  “You can’t be fucking serious,” Devin scoffs in disbelief as he spots me bench pressing.

  I can’t keep the smile off my face. “As a heart attack. Chick asked me to be her sex tutor,” I answer between reps. I keep my voice even, casual. Being a sex god comes naturally to me.

  “So, instead of stocking shelves at two a.m. you’re fucking some coed for cash? Please tell me she’s a troll at least.”

  I re-rack the bar with a chuckle.

  “Sorry, man. She’s not an under-the-bridge dweller.” I push aside thoughts of Elizabeth’s perky nipples in my shirt last night. Don’t need a semi at the gym. “She’s kinda sexy, for an uptight nerd.”

  “You’re the luckiest little shit I’ve ever met. First, you get that fucking scholarship when you can’t catch for shit—”

  “Fuck you!” I interject.

  “And now you’re getting paid to get nasty with some chick,” Devin quips in mock indignation. My luck is relative. He knows more than enough of my fucked-up past.

  We swap places and he lies down on the bench. “So, is she into the super-kinky shit or what?”

  “Nothing like that.” I laugh at the thought of ‘kinky’ Elizabeth. “She’s just shy as hell. Super inexperienced. She needs a little help.”

  Devin pauses with the bar on his chest and glares up at me, his face morphing into a terse scowl.

  “What?” I ask, despite having a pretty good guess at what’s coming.

  He’s got that big-brother look on his face. He’s going to spout some nonsense and call it wisdom.

  “Nothing. Just thought you’d outgrown this savior bullshit.” He shakes his head disapprovingly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know…what I mean…” he says between presses. “You’re…little fucking…Bo Peep…with your…damaged…little lambs.”

  “I think you mean lost lambs, fuck nut,” I deflect.

  “Nah, you want the damaged ones.” I cross my arms, waiting for him to continue. “When we got new foster kids at the home, the first-timers, you were always the one to hold their hand, tell them it was going to be okay and all that cheesy shit. You love fixing the broken ones.”

  “Come on, we all did that. Fuck, you did that shit for me. You’re a big fucking softie.” I shove him playfully. No one would ever think it looking at the giant, tattooed, brooding asshole, but he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.

  “I helped you. Once. And only because I had to share a room with you and you smelled nasty. Couldn’t even figure out how to use the damn shower by yourself!”

  “Fuck off. I was only six.”

  “You were seven. And you wouldn’t stop crying for your momma. So, yeah, I took pity on your pathetic ass. But you? You did it. Every. Fucking. Time. It was a sick fucking game for you, some test we all had to pass.” Devin re-racks the bar, only completing half his set.

  He sits up on the bench and turns to face me before continuing. “You’d play big brother, let them get all attached. Then, you’d shit all over them just to see how much they’d swallow before they’d walk away.”

  Before my mom died, I n
eeded to know if people were worth it, worth loving. Turns out they aren’t.

  “I was just bored. I didn’t mean shit to those kids. And they don’t mean shit to me.”

  “Sure they didn’t.”

  I shove him out of the way and take my spot on the bench again.

  “And I don’t give a shit about this girl either. She’s just an easy paycheck.”

  “Sure she is,” he grumbles. “Don’t come crying to me when you break her and she walks away.”

  I grunt, avoiding giving him the satisfaction of admitting he’s right.

  They always leave.

  * * * *

  I have an armful of groceries, so I don’t bother knocking on Elizabeth’s door. I know she doesn’t lock it anyway. I really should tell her how stupid that is, doorman or not. She lives in a nice neighborhood, but those are usually the ones that get robbed. She’s too trusting. She obviously hasn’t been sucker punched by life yet.

  “Hey,” I announce my arrival as I make my way to the kitchen and put the groceries away. Devin’s voice echoes in the back of my head.

  You love fixing the broken ones. You let them get attached.

  This is different. The food is for me, not for her. Five thousand dollars is burning a hole in my pocket. I’ve never had that much money in my life. So, I bought all the nice stuff I never have the money for. I don’t have to scrimp on the meat, fancy spices or fresh produce. And if I keep this stuff at my place, my douchebag roommates will eat it all.

  It’s not romantic. It’s practical.

  Here I can make dinner without having to share. Except with Elizabeth, but she’s tiny. How much is she really going to eat anyway?

  “Whatcha up to, Goose?”

  She’s sitting at her computer with her back to me, but I can hear her talking to someone.

  “He’s here. I gotta go. Yes, that’s him,” she says into some sort of headset. She’s dwarfed in the giant office chair that looks more like a racecar seat. I bet it cost more than my entire truck. She’s video chatting with someone. My curiosity is piqued when I realize she must be talking about me.

  “No, that’s not happening… Because it’s weird! That’s disgusting. Grow up…that is none of your business!” I can only hear one side of the conversation. She sounds playful but irritated. It’s a combination I’m already intimately familiar with. I can’t help but snoop. I sneak up behind her, keeping an eye on her screen.